


WARNING

by succubusybody



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo is Not Nice, Ben is a cop, Ben is in his 30s, Captivity, Car Sex, Complete, Darkfic, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Gaslighting, In more ways than one, Kidnapping, Nonvember, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rey is 16, Rey is a new driver, Size Kink, a dirty cop, this is a sad one, this really fucks her up okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-08-25 06:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/succubusybody/pseuds/succubusybody
Summary: Rey is a new driver who's just been pulled over on her way home from work late one night. She can't afford a ticket. Officer Ben Solo has something else in mind.





	1. Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide

**Author's Note:**

> this was a prompt i received on [tumblr](https://succubusybody.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> trigger warning for underage/age gaps, police severely abusing their power, and extreme dubcon/will be considered some as noncon. there's definitely something she doesn't consent to at the end.
> 
> this is a bit heavy.

Red and blue lights flare up, and Rey’s eyes widen and dart down to the dash. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. She’s going fast, yeah, but she _always_ goes fast on this road; it’s in the middle of nowhere and in the middle of the night. It isn’t like she’s endangering anybody.

The good thing is that she won’t have to worry about paying off the ticket, she thinks, because Unkar is going to kill her dead.

Flipping her turning signal, she slows down and pulls over, mind racing a million miles a minute. Twenty over… that’s got to be an expensive ticket, right? Higher than five over? She hardly makes any money working at the convenience store, and what money she _does_ make, she has to spend on important stuff, like clothes or college applications. She can’t afford this.

A flashlight wanders over to the driver-side window. A gloved hand knocks on the glass. Okay, she thinks. Okay. She just has to be smart about this. She takes a deep breath and rolls her window down.

“Evening, miss.” The flashlight is blinding and all she can see; she puts up a hand to try to peer around it. His voice is familiar, and this is a small town… she wants to be sure she knows who it is before she tries anything. “License and registration, please.”

Nodding, she flips on the overhead, sneaking a glance back towards the officer before grabbing her license from her pocket. Ben Solo. They’ve never met, but she’s heard things about him in town. All the old ladies love him, he won Rookie of the Year after graduating the academy and Cop of the Year most years after that, and apparently everyone thought it was a shame he wasn’t married yet.

She can work with this. She can try, anyway.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she leans way over the center console, ass in the air as she goes for the glove box. Rey feel silly, but she’s messed around with enough guys to know that they don’t really care all that much and don’t seem to notice if you’re a little over the top.

“Sorry.” She looks over her shoulder at him and tries a smile. From way back here, his face is hard to read. He’s a lot older than her, and she’s worried her usual tricks might not work. “I know it’s in here somewhere.” 

After pretending to search through oil change receipts and service records for another minute, she grabs it and holds it in the air triumphantly, bouncing back into her seat with a grin.

“Here you go, sir.” His face is stony as she hands the papers over. If anything, she hates that she has absolutely no idea what he’s thinking. 

If it’s not going to work, she wishes he would just give her a ticket already. It’s cold out, and the window being down is letting all the heat escape from her car. He probably doesn’t even notice. His jacket looks real nice and warm. 

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going, Miss Niima?” Officer Solo folds her registration neatly in half and hands it back. License too. When she takes it, she makes sure their fingers brush together.

“No, sir.” That’s a lie, but how is he going to know? And would the truth make things any better? Rey fakes a sigh and looks down, twisting a piece of hair between her index finger and thumb. She just washed it this morning, so it still smells great. “It’s _so_ late, and I have school in the morning, so when I got off work I just wanted to be home _so_ badly, you know?”

Her voice is stretched into a whine, and she thinks it’s gross, but she knows guys really like the whole damsel-in-distress type thing. She always uses the same voice with Poe when she needs him to cover a shift for her. Always works like a charm.

“Almost eighty. In a fifty-five.” Okay. Maybe it _almost_ always works like a charm. 

“I… I guess I didn’t realize.” She frowns and looks up at him. The flirting thing isn’t working out at all, so she’ll settle for pity, if she can get it. He’s supposed to be a great guy, right? Real nice? “I’m just so tired.”

He raises an eyebrow at her, and she knows that she didn’t make the right move. “You know driving tired is just as dangerous as driving drunk, don’t you?”

Crap. Her shoulders sink as she leans against the steering wheel, cradling her forehead in her hands. Tears of frustration are prickling up, and she doesn’t wanna be the girl that sobbed when she got her first ticket. That’d just be embarrassing.

But when she looks up again, he’s not writing her one. His eyes are narrow - not in a mean way, but like he’s thinking hard.

“Get out of the car for me, please.” 

Is she under arrest? Can they arrest you for traffic violations? She doesn’t remember that part of driver’s ed, but she was goofing off with Rose for most of it, so maybe she just didn’t hear. “I’m sorry… what?”

He’s patient, at the very least. He doesn’t sigh, or speak rudely, or even have an irritated look on his face. “I said would you please step out of the vehicle?”

Maybe he thinks she’s drunk? And he’s going to make her walk in a straight line? Drunk driving at 12 am on a Sunday doesn’t sound like a normal sixteen-year-old activity, but maybe he has to be careful. It’s fine, she thinks. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Besides the speeding.

The moon’s out, and they’re both illuminated by the lights from his car. The siren casts shades of red and blue across his face as she closes the door behind her, crossing her arms over her chest. She can walk in a straight line, or follow his finger with her eyes, or whatever. It’ll be quick. Which is good… she’s cold.

“Place your hands on the hood of the vehicle.” Maybe she _is_ under arrest. Yikes. She walks around to the front of the car and places her hands on it, trying to decide what would be worse: if Unkar didn’t come pick her up from jail, or if he did. Tough call.

“Do you have any weapons on your person?” Only because he can’t see her face, she rolls her eyes. Yeah, right. She’s got a tiny gun in an ankle holster. What does he think? Rey shakes her head no, but he steps behind her, anyway. “I have to check. Wouldn’t want anybody to get hurt.”

His hands land heavily on her shoulders. Her face shifts to a bright red as he starts to pat her down, his hand clapping roughly around her sides and then each leg.

Rey just keeps staring forward. He has to know she doesn’t have anything on her - she’s sixteen, for Christ’s sake, she’s not driving around strapped, or whatever - but he’s doing it anyway. She wants to get home, crawl into bed, and forget that this ever happened.

Slowly, he straightens up from where he’s crouching by her ankles. His hands don’t leave her waist. Nerves gather in her throat and she swallows them down hard.

But it’s nothing, right? It could still be nothing. He hasn’t done anything really bad. 

A part of her wants to ask if she’s free to leave, but asking the question might mean acknowledging the situation - and if she lets the horribly fragile moment sit, there’s a chance that they could both just walk away from it.

“I’m gonna need you to get in the back of the car.” And, just like that, he sends them careening over the edge they’d been just teetering on, crashing towards something terrifying. Something bad.

She whips around to face him, eyes wide, but he’s got her boxed against the hood of the car with one long arm to either side of her body. It’s suddenly hard to breathe, as though his very presence is suffocating; she shakes her head slowly, a silent plea.

“I could always just give you a ticket,” Officer Solo muses, one eyebrow quirked up. “I’ll be sure to get your license revoked. Can’t risk dangerous drivers on the road.”

Oh no - _oh no_. Without her license, she’ll be trapped: unable to go work, which means no money, which means no college applications, which means never getting out of here. Nobody would pick her up, and Ukar definitely wouldn’t drop her off. Her ability to drive is a lifeline that her freedom clings to.

“You can’t do that.” Rey’s voice comes out a squeak, her stomach twisting into knots as fear starts to creep in.

He just smiles at her, all lopsided. Charming, even. Ben Solo looks every bit the part of good ol’ boy. “I can do whatever I want.”

While she has no idea whether that’s true, she can’t risk it. She gives him a shaky nod and he steps back, thumbs hooking into belt loops. He jerks toward the car with his chin and waits.

The backseat is covered in crap, as usual: one of Rose’s jackets that she’d left behind, a water bottle, notebooks for school, receipts and old exam papers scattered everywhere. She uses her arms to sweep it all onto the floor and climbs in.

All the heat is gone from the car now. She shivers. He walks past the open door, telling her to take off her pants as he goes. She does - she doesn’t know what else to do - and the lights from his car cut out.

Despite all hope that he would, for whatever reason, just go away… he comes back.

The car door slams shut behind him, and all she can think about is how funny he looks, on his knees in the back seat of her car, all hunched over at the shoulders. Like a hermit crab that’s too small for his shell, or something. He plants one big hand on her chest to push her back, the other fumbling with the belt of his uniform.

“Have you ever done this before?” He doesn’t sound sympathetic or sweet - he sounds cold, demanding. Rey chew on the inside of her cheek and shakes her head yes. “Good.”

She watches as he pushes his trousers down his thighs til they bunch up, spitting into his hand and palming at his already-hard cock. He’s no high schooler; her chest tightens as she stares at him.

“Relax,” he says, even though his voice isn’t soothing at all. “The more tense you are, the more it’ll hurt.” 

He inches closer, bending over her and lifting her legs so that they rest on his shoulders as he rubs just the tip through her folds. He’s teasing her, she realizes. If she closes her eyes and pretends it’s a different situation, she might be able to enjoy this, but she can’t. It feels dangerous to look away.

Still, as he rubs against her, he brushes past a particularly sensitive spot and she shivers. “There you go,” he purrs encouragingly. One of his arms wraps around a thigh, his thumb finding that same spot to circle as he lines himself up and starts to sink into her.

It stings. Her teeth grit and brows furrow as she lets loose a long, quiet hiss. The friction on her clit helps; she tries to roll her hips into his thumb, desperate to get whatever she can if it means taking her mind off the feeling of him splitting her open.

Once he’s fully seated inside of her, he whistles. “Thought you said you’d done this before?” There’s a pause as he draws back, only to thrust slowly into her again, his eyes closed and head shaking slowly from side to side. “No way you’re this tight and not a virgin.”

She hates him. 

She rolls against his hand, anyway.

When she’s adjusted to him, pressure building in her stomach and heat pooling between her thighs, he starts to fuck her. Rey has to reach up, bracing her hands against the car door, to keep from knocking her head against it with each forceful thrust. He grunts like an animal - _is_ an animal - and wraps his free hands around her legs to pull them close to his chest.

The metal of his badge is cold as it presses into the back of her calf. A woman’s scratchy voice squawks from the radio on his shoulder. Rey finally squeezes her eyes shut, trying to focus on nothing but the feeling of him against her, all desperate and impatient, and the sounds he makes as he thrusts -

Her legs shake violently as she comes undone right beneath him, bucking her hips and wailing. Officer Solo laughs and plants a kiss on her ankle, swearing under his breath.

“Are you on birth control?” 

His voice snaps her out of the pleasant haze of orgasm and back to reality. She frowns and nods, but not before she realizes why he’s asking. “But please don’t-”

She doesn’t even get to finish the plea before he groans, both hands moving to her thighs with a bruising grip as he swells and spills inside of her. Rey gasps and presses on his chest, trying to rip her thighs away from him. It doesn’t work. She feels every twitch of his cock, every spurt of cum. His chest heaves beneath her as he settles.

They stay like that for a moment, mostly because he won’t let go. When he finally does slide out of her, he’s silent. He tucks himself back into his pants and opens the car door, letting a stream of cold air back in. Rey shivers.

“You drive real careful, Miss Niima.” The car door slams. His cruiser starts, headlights flipping back on before he pulls away. 

Her movements are robotic as she sits up. She’s stiff as she pulls her clothes back on. By the time she gets home, her panties will be stained with _him_ , and she wonders if she can burn them without waking Unkar up. Her body feels sore as she drags herself from the back of the car to the driver’s seat.

She knows that wasn’t right.

She knows no one will believe her.

She uses her sleeve to clear the fog from her windshield and drives home through tears.


	2. Gonna find you and take it slowly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> give the people what they want!!!!
> 
> sad fic gets sadder.

Her head is spinning as she focuses on putting one foot in front of the other, eyes trained steadily on the ground. As steadily as she can, anyway. Every few steps she has to blink to clear the blur from her gaze.

At least it’s cold out, she thinks. The air feels good on her rosy cheeks, and it keeps her alert; she unzips her winter coat to let it slip closer to her skin. Rey just needs to get home - Unkar will have gotten drunk earlier in the evening and passed out by now, so she just has to slip back through the window she’d snuck out of. He probably hadn’t even noticed she was gone, and if he had, he wouldn’t remember it in the morning, and he’d be too busy nursing his hangover to notice that she’s doing the same.

Stupid Poe Dameron. She knows it’s silly to be mad at him, since he’d hardly _forced_ her to drink the beers, but he’d been the one to invite her to the party, and he hadn’t even offered to walk her home. 

The familiar feeling of her stomach lurching has her stumbling toward the grassy side of the walkway, clumsy as she bends over to retch. Even through the sickness, her eyes watering and hands clutching her stomach, she’s acutely aware of tires crunching to a stop behind her.

“Are you alright?” Her blood runs cold as she hears that voice - a voice she’s familiar with, by now. A voice she heard in her nightmares for weeks. Rey straightens, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and forcing herself to swallow the lump in her throat, even through the foul, acidic taste of her own vomit.

She doesn’t want to turn around, but she does.

Her eyes rest on the tires, at first, heart sinking as she sees the body - black and white, just like she’d been afraid of. She twists her hands nervously and forces herself to look up through her lashes at the driver, and there he is:

Smiling, like they’re old friends. Like he hadn’t ruined her life. Every cell in her body begs her to scream and run, but she just stands there like an idiot and shakes her head yes. Yes, she’s fine. Yes, please carry on and leave me alone.

At least he has the decency to not turn his flashing lights on.

“Have you been drinking, Rey?” The way he uses her first name, like they’re close, makes her want to vomit all over again. The way he’s still smiling makes her want to cry.

Instead of doing either, she takes a stiff-legged step forward, and then another. She’s _seen_ him hanging around the gas station on her shifts, sitting in his car across the street. She’s seen him drive by her school when she finishes classes. She doesn’t know if he knows that she’s seen him, and she doesn’t know what’s worse: if he does or if he doesn’t.

“I’m almost home, Officer Solo, but thank you for your concern.” Rey wraps her arms around herself and is thankful for the winter air; she can blame the shiver in her voice on the temperature instead of the ice in her spine.

Each time she gets just far enough away, she hears his tires crunch forward. She doesn’t look back - which is silly, she figures. He’s a man, not a creepy-crawly in the night. Not looking doesn’t mean he’s not there. Still, it makes her feel better.

“Well let me give you a ride. It’s not safe for a girl your age to be wandering around this time of night.”

She freezes in her tracks, turning slowly to look at him. He’s smiling again, and she isn’t sure he’s ever stopped smiling since he saw her. Nothing he said _sounded_ especially malicious; if anything, he sounds exactly the part of kind small-town cop concerned about his citizens.

But she knows better.

“Thanks, Officer Solo.” She forces another smile. “I don’t live far from here, though, so I’m almost home, and I’d hate to put you through any trouble.”

Swallowing her fear, she forces herself to turn around and keep walking. She doesn’t make it far.

“Get in the car, Rey.” His voice isn’t as friendly this time.

There’s a lot of things that he could do, she thinks as she runs through what-ifs in her head. He could arrest her for resisting arrest, if he wants to play it that way. He could give her a ticket for underage drinking, and Unkar would kill her. He could just drag her to the car himself.

She uses every bit of will in her body to ignore the parts of her screaming _no!_ and turns, planting one leaden foot after the other as she makes her way to the passenger-side door of his cruiser. It’s the wrong choice, and a dangerous one, at that, but she isn’t sure what other choice she has to make. 

It’s warm in the car, and he’s listening to Johnny Cash with the volume real low. Rey has never been in a police car before, and, even though she’s in the front seat, it’s stressful. It isn’t _her_ police car.

That alone is enough remind her who holds the power here.

Ben starts driving, even though she didn’t tell him where she lives. She closes her eyes and tries not to feel the car moving beneath her.

“You’re not going to tell Unkar, are you?” It seems like a silly question for her to ask, when he could do much worse - permanent record worse - but it’s all that keeps going through her mind.

This is a nice car, she realizes. When she drives, she can hear her engine and her tires as they roll across the road. She can’t hear anything besides Johnny Cash and her own heartbeat, now. She’s never been in a car this nice, all buttery leather seats.

He drags his answer out, and she starts to wonder if she actually asked it, or if she just thought it.

“No, I won’t.” It’s punctuated with the weight of his hand on her knee, his large thumb stroking gently back and forth against the fabric of her jeans. She swallows hard and tries to pull her legs together, but can’t; he’s too strong and she’s too drunk, so her clumsy effort gets her absolutely nowhere.

They drive quietly and she tries to focus on the music. Maybe this is better than talking, she thinks, because when he asks her things, she gets scared. Scared that there’s a right and a wrong answer, and she doesn’t know which is which.

Silence is definitely better than fear.

Of course, right when she starts to get comfortable in that silence, he ruins it for her. She wonders if he can tell when she calms down, and if he sets her on edge on purpose. It wouldn’t be that surprising.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few days.” His voice is low. Soft, even. Rey doesn’t trust it and cracks one eye open as much as she can stand to look at him sideways. He’s staring straight ahead, face grim like he’s deep in thought. He takes his hand off her knee for just a second to rub at his stubbly jaw, and she takes the opportunity to shift her legs toward the door.

His arms are awfully long, though, so it doesn’t really stop him.

“Thinking about me why?” They’re playing a dangerous game, and the only strategy she’s got is to play dumb. The last thing she wants to do is talk about it, so she pretends like it never happened.

“Just…” He trails off, and her heart beats nervously in her chest. “Thinking.” It is and it isn’t an answer. She has no plans to pry for more details.

The two-way radio in his console crackles to life with the sweet, pleasant voice of a dispatch officer speaking in code. She watches as Ben silences it, and her stomach twists nervously. Rey squeezes her eyes closed and waits for it to be over; if he’s going to rape her, she wishes he’d just pull over and get it over with. 

She’s picked up the pieces once before. The waiting, somehow, is worse. Anticipation might kill her.

Squeaking brakes, a high-pitched and slight sound, bring her back. She must’ve dozed off, but she doesn’t remember it. “Hey,” she mumbles through sleep-fog and a still-drunken haze. “‘M home?”

Ben undoes her seatbelt (how polite of him) before his own. “Let me help you up to the door. Wouldn’t want you falling.”

Polite rapist. She’d think it was funny, if she wasn’t trying to figure out how she feels drunker after a nap in the car than she did walking home. Rey leans back in the seat, eyes still closed as he exits the driver’s side and comes around to open her door for her. 

“Up we go,” he rumbles as he loops one of her arms across his shoulders. She doesn’t really need help to walk (or, at least, she doesn’t think she does), but she can’t figure out how to tell him that, and untangling her arm seems far too complicated. She just sighs, intead, and lets him heave her out of the squad car as she prays Unkar isn’t awake to see her escorted home like this.

They take a few steps before she cracks her eyes open again, then frowns, blinks a few times, and squints intently. Something is wrong, but it takes her a moment to realize what.

This isn’t her house.

He’s using the hand that isn’t supporting her to press the locked button on his key fob; suddenly stone sober, she flings herself away from him as the car chirps twice. She doesn’t have the breath in her lungs that she needs to scream, so she tries to run, instead.

Run where? She isn’t sure. Away is a good enough start, and she figures she’ll get the rest sorted out once she’s got a good head start.

But she forgets he’s a _cop_ , trained to prevent the bad guys from getting away. She’s not the bad guy, here, but he tackles her to the grass all the same, one large hand clamping across her jaw before she can shriek. “Don’t make this more difficult than it has to be,” he warns.

She wonders if he really believes the warning will calm her down.

Despite her frantic scrabbling, he scoops her off the ground like she’s nothing, keeping her pinned to his chest as he moves toward the door with ease. No matter how hard she digs her heels into the ground, each step he takes pushes her forward. Rey sobs into his hand and claws at his wrists.

“Stop crying.” He uses his bodyweight to pin her to the brick, freeing up one hand to fiddle his house key free from the keyring. “No one is going to miss you.”

He’s right, she thinks. How long until anyone even realizes she’s gone? Even Rose might think she’d just skipped school for a while, and if she brought it up, all her teachers would chalk her up to a runaway. Unkar probably wouldn’t even notice she’s disappeared - maybe ever. She sobs harder.

His home is spacious - no walls to cling to as they spill into the foyer, his arm under hers. Rey tries to trip him, tries to kick him; he just lifts her off the ground, leaving her flailing like a cat caught by its scruff.

They round a corner, and suddenly they’re facing a steep set of stairs illuminated by a single light bulb, a white door padlocked from the outside at the bottom. Ben takes his hand away from her mouth, using it to steady himself against the rail as he carries her down the steps; she presses her hands and feet against either side of the wall.

Maybe they’ll fall and break their necks. She doesn’t care, at this point. That would be better than whatever this is. The screams she couldn’t find outside bubble to the surface, earning her an irritated grunt from the man she’d once thought to be _good_ : a good cop, a good son, a good citizen.

Wrong, wrong and wrong.

At the foot of the stairs, he drops her. There’s no use trying to get around him, she knows; he’s big enough to fill the entire stairway, blocking her path with a simple shift to the side. She tries anyway as he fiddles with his keyring again.

The door creaks behind her as it swings open. Her screams reach a fever pitch as he herds her into the room: a small, modestly-decorated studio apartment. Ben’s unfazed by her panic, reaching out to stroke a cheek that’s sticky with tears.

“Please, don’t do this,” she whispers, voice already hoarse.

He sighs.

“You’ll get used to it.” There’s a long pause as he stares at her; she wishes she knew what he was thinking. She wonders if it’s better not to know. “Eventually.”

Planting a splayed hand on her chest, he shoves her backward, just far enough that he can close and lock the door behind himself.

Rey screams until she can’t scream anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanna follow me on [tumblr](succubusybody.tumblr.com)?


End file.
